


banking on it

by lecygne



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Allusions to panic attacks, Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Sex Work, Slow Burn, dex as a cam boy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-23 00:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecygne/pseuds/lecygne
Summary: There were a lot of reasons why Dex wanted to go to Samwell, but it's an expensive school. After a rogue quarter decides his fate, rooming with Derek Nurse of all people, Dex is worried the team will find out just exactly how he manages to pay for schooling, and it's not all lobster boats.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dex doesn't handle the dip flip very well, so of course I could only assume that he has both a raging crush on future roommate Derek Nurse, and/or a huge secret. So, here we have a camboy!Dex AU. 
> 
> Thanks to [lost-halo-rights](https://lost-halo-rights.tumblr.com) for being my beta, and also letting me ramble frantically to her about all of this at random hours of the day.

Maybe Dex had overreacted a bit.  

Okay, maybe Dex had overreacted a lot. Had a total meltdown, even. His very structured and well planned out future had crumbled before his very eyes and he hadn’t dealt with it very well. Nursey totally deserves an apology, but certainly not an explanation.

See, what Dex had been “banking” on was the small iota of privacy the Haus potentially provided for his second job. A job which Nursey, nor anyone for that matter, could never, ever find out about.

So it wasn’t a Dex-hates-Nursey thing. Nursey was his  best friend (second only to Chowder) and he made a valid point; rent would be cheaper split between the two of them. The fact that the particular shade of Nursey’s eyes would pop up in his fantasies every now and again was the least of his fears actually. He was always great at compartmentalizing.

It wasn’t a gay panic thing, exactly. Not that he was out to the team in so many words, but that was neither here nor there right now.

It was more of a sex-for-money thing.

And maybe a Nursey thing.

But mostly a sex-for-money thing.

When Dex was in senior year of high school, around March when the Samwell acceptance letter rolled into his life, he was panicking.

(He’s sensing a theme here.)

Because Samewell was the most ambitious school he had applied to, and honestly, he had been expecting to be stuck in Maine the rest of his life. Because USM is “still a good school” or community college which was just “more realistic”, because his family needed him close.

Samwell offered opportunities, a future, and a newly turned 18 year old Dex was dying for a way out of small town life. A place a little more accepting.

He lucked out with the athletic scholarship, it certainly went a long way towards his out-of-state tuition, and the amount of FAFSA money he qualified for was nothing to turn his nose up about. Still, at the end of the day, it wasn’t enough. He would have to spend every day of every vacation on a lobster boat or manning a cash register.

He was complaining about this precise predicament with Cory, his on-again-off-again boyfriend from his actual first gay panic.

“Make porn.”

Dex stared at him, mouth agape and face on fire.

“What the shit, man?”

Cory flipped through a magazine casually, as if he hadn’t just suggested that Dex should have sex for money.

“Dude, really. You’re 18 now, you have a rocking hockey body, and I bet you’d make a lot of money. You’ve got some pretty decent moves.” Cory leers at him over the top of the magazine, giving Dex a once over.

Dex balled his fists and stomped over to where Cory was laying back, snatching the magazine from his grip.

“I’m not fucking people for money, Jesus Christ.”

Now it was Cory’s turn to look indignant.

“Oh my god, you wouldn’t have to actually fuck anyone. There’s always cam work.” Dex rolled the magazine up and took a couple swipes at Cory’s head.

“Alright, fuck you, get out of my house.”

Cory rolled off the bed apathetically, dipping to grab his backpack off the floor.

“Call me when you’re being less of a prude. Later, red.” Cory tossed a half salute over his shoulder and breezed out the door, letting it click softly behind him.

_Ugh,_ Dex thought, _What a goddamn pervert, why do I even bother._

The next time Dex thinks about it, it’s 2am on a Friday night and Dex is having a panic attack over budgeting spreadsheets. (He will later confess part of this to Ransom, who had found him curled up under the Haus table during his first semester mid-terms). The numbers are so big and Dex feels like he’s drowning in so many zeroes he can’t breathe.

As he’s curled up on his bed counting his breaths, the thought crosses his mind like a glittering mirage in the desert. He’s pulling up an incognito search and is halfway to hitting enter when he closes his laptop suddenly.

“No.” He rubs his eyes and slips into bed, wrapping the blankets tightly around himself. “I can make it work.”

Samwell is amazing, and no matter how bumpy the Taddy Tour may have started out, Dex was excited to be a part of the hockey team. It helped that they were paying a hefty amount of his tuition. The campus was gorgeous, the computer labs were the most high tech thing he’s ever seen, and their unofficial one-in-four motto certainly helped sway his decision. Their first line winger baked mini pies for heaven’s sake, this definitely seemed like a judge-free zone. 

Dex decided he had to go to Samwell, and he’d do whatever it took.

 

* * *

 

So that’s how Dex found himself in the Haus one morning, being thoroughly chastised by his captains.

“Bro, what were you thinking?” Ransom has his signature Disappointed Face firmly in place, and it’s doing more to needle at Dex’s guilt than Holster’s bellowing, of which there was plenty.

“THAT’S NO WAY TO TREAT YOUR D-MAN, POINDEXTER.” Holster was furiously kneading dough, corralled by Bitty the moment Dex had entered the Haus (because Bitty was a good person, and Dex didn’t deserve it).  

Dex was slumped in his chair, arms crossed like a petulant child, but he wasn’t arguing with them. This was certainly warranted for his freak out.

“Dex, man, I know you’ve done a lot for the Haus,” Ransom is leaning forward, Dex is trying to keep his emotions in check. “But Dibs are personal, it was Lardo’s right.”

“Which is moot because they flipped for it and you technically did get the room, Dex!” Holster punctuates each word with a punch to his dough. Dex speculated wildly about exactly what his face might look like right now if Bitty hadn’t the grace to intervene.

“Yeah, you’re right. Nursey helped Lardo out a lot this year, he deserved it.” Dex’s face was burning, every moment of his meltdown replaying in his mind like some awful video on repeat.

“I just…“ Dex stopped himself. He doesn’t have a follow up, he doesn’t have an excuse for this, not one he’s willing share at any rate.

“I was surprised. It threw a wrench in my plans. You guys know I don’t handle surprises well,” it’s a flimsy excuse and Dex knows it, can feel the waves of unimpressed rolling off the three of them.

“Dex, that’s not good enough.” Bitty slides a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of him anyway, because Bitty can’t not feed someone sitting at his table. Dex eats his pity pancakes gratefully, reminds himself to leave him at least half of his estate to Bitty in his will.  

“You’re apologizing to Nursey, today.” Ransom’s voice is authoritative despite being stuffed with pancakes of his own. “And he has every right to kick you out.”

Dex flounders, nearly chokes on his food, “What?”

“It’s not in the bylaws, but,” Bitty is wrestling the dough out of Holster’s grip, “I think we’d make an exception.”

  _Fuck,_ Dex thought, _What the fuck am I going to do?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Step 1: Apologize to Derek Nurse.  
> Step 2: ?  
> Step 3: Not be homeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly wasn't expecting much of a reaction for this, so thank you so much to everyone who read and commented on part 1! 
> 
> Huge thank you once again to [@lost-halo-rights](http://lost-halo-rights.tumblr.com/) and [@chocolatechipcookiesplease](http://chocolatechipcookiesplease.tumblr.com/) for being my inspiration and my betas! You two are seriously the best. <3

Step 1: Apologize to Derek Nurse.

Step 2: ?

Step 3: Not be homeless.

 

Dex is in his dorm, blinds drawn, the door locked and tripod set up. He has two hours before his roommate is due back from his lab, and at least one hour before any of SMH has a reason to pester him.

He opens his laptop, checks his framing and lighting once more, and hits record. He goes through the motions on auto-pilot, his mind elsewhere. Perhaps it’s odd that Dex has conditioned himself to do all his over thinking while masturbating in front of a video camera, that’d he probably need more stimuli to make a good production out of it. Dex, however, is a young gay man away from home and really it doesn't take much for these scenes to play out, much to his bank account’s joy. 

So he’ll apologize to Nursey. Maybe buy him that fancy coffee from Annie’s to make sure he doesn’t punch him on sight. He’ll apologize to Nursey, tell him he was being a jerk, and try to make amends. He hasn’t seen Nursey in the last two days, come to think of it. He’s probably been avoiding Dex, and Dex can’t really blame him.

Dex flips himself over onto his back, careful of the framing, slips a purple dildo into himself and continues.

Would Nursey kick Dex out of the room? Clearly Holster, Ransom, and Bitty all think he’s entitled to it. They’re right of course, and the sinking feeling in his stomach only gets worse. Dex really didn’t mean to flip out, but he can’t undo anything. He can only hope that Nursey will forgive him, and let him stay in the Haus. Dex would do anything, actually, he would beg if Nursey wanted to see him on his knees.

An orgasm ripped through Dex suddenly, toes curling and cum splattering on his belly and chest. He gently slipped the dildo out of him and moved to stop the recording. His breathing was ragged, and he doesn’t want to examine too closely the reasons why it snuck up on him so quickly. 

He lets the video render, and by the time it’s finished and uploaded, he’s showered and redressed, his backpack packed and ready to initiate Operation Save Face.

Dex hopes that if he sticks blindly to routine he can force some sense of normalcy between them. Wednesday nights are D-Men Bonding Nights; officially for Ransom and Holster, but much less so for Nursey and Dex. Still, they manage to find themselves in the library more often than not, only studying about half the time, the rest of it usually bickering over Real Housewives of Atlanta. 

He leaves early, giving himself enough time to swing by Annie’s, before heading to the English building where Nursey’s lecture is just about to let out.

Dex is trying to play it cool, leaning against the red brick building and peering over the top of his own cup. People are beginning to stream out slowly and it doesn’t take long before Dex spies the familiar green snapback.

Nursey catches his gaze and Dex can see the moment his cool facade slips into place, and it feels like a punch to the gut. It’s leaps and bounds from where there were, and Dex knows it’s going to take more than one Pumpkin Spice Latte to fix this.

Regardless, Dex still offers a small, hopeful smile and lifts the other beverage; an invitation. 

The moment seems to stretch on, Nursey unmoving in the flow of bodies and Dex, waiting on the head of a pin. Dex let’s out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Nursey seems to come to a decision, making a beeline straight for him.

Nursey takes the cup wordlessly, which Dex still counts as a win. He pushes himself off the wall in way that he hopes looks cool, and cocks his head towards the library. They fall into stride with one another, taking up an easy amble all the way to Founder’s. Dex isn’t good with words, and he’s trying to by time. He really needs to start practicing these conversations more, there’s so much he doesn’t know where to begin  and Nursey definitely isn’t going to give him anything. He decides to start simply.

“I’m sorry.”

Okay, perfect, apology is out there. Step one, accomplished.

Nursey only raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Dex let’s out a breath, careful not to huff, and tries again.

“I acted like an asshole, for no reason,” he continues. They’ve reached the steps of Founder’s, and Dex’s gaze is firmly set on his shoes, his face burning because he’s going to have to talk about  _ feelings _ and that’s not really in within his emotional comfort zone. Nursey still hasn’t said anything, but Dex can still see his feet out of his peripheral so at least he hasn’t abandoned the conversation yet. Dex pushes on.

“I’m sorry, you really deserve Lardo’s dibs. You’ve done a lot for her and the whole team, and I totally get if you don’t want me there.” Dex tries to rally his strength and manages by the end of his pathetic speech to at least drag his gaze back to Nursey’s, to try and pour as much sincerity into eye contact as possible. The trouble with that plan is that he sees the exact moment Nursey’s face falls. 

_ Oh no.  _ Dex is definitely panicking. He thought he got it right, he thought he knew what it was Nursey wanted.

Nursey starts to pick at the paper sleeve of his latte nervously.

“I just thought you’d be more excited to live with me, man.”

Oh. That’s… not what Dex was expecting. He blinks a few times, his mind trying to wrap itself around this new direction. He hadn’t ever thought about actually   _ living _ with Derek before, only about sharing his space. Which, if Dex were truly being honest with himself, he tried to ignore. He didn’t want to travel down the avenue of unrequited crushes right now.

“I was being self-centered. Of course I’m excited to live with you, man.” Dex flashes a grin and nudges Nursey with his elbow. “You, Chowder and I under one roof? Bitty won’t see the ripe old age of 22.”

It’s an obvious out, Dex knows, but Nursey has the good grace to accept it and offers up his own chuckle. Dex feels the tiniest wave of victory and decides to ride this as far as it will go. He starts up the steps, turning to tug at Nursey’s sleeve and they both make their way into the library. It a moment of bravery, he throws an arm around Nursey’s shoulders and pulls him into his side.

“C’mon, we can start thinking of all the ways we can drive Ollie and Wicks to an early grave.”

 

* * *

  
  


Dex’s plan of forced normalization seems to work. Wednesday at Founder’s ends up being crashed by Chowder and Caitlin after 45 minutes, and Nursey seems to loosen up. Their camaraderie is fragile, but Dex is feeling pretty confident they’ll be back to where they were soon enough.

They’re leaving the library, Chowder and Caitlin on their way to the Haus but both Nursey and Dex beg off, citing their proximity to their dorms. This completely unphased Chowder, who is more than happy to abandon them for extended girlfriend time. Dex and Nursey turn towards their dorms, and now that Chowder has stepped away as a buffer, there is still tension between them. It’s not thick or suffocating, but it’s there.

“Dex.”

Nursey has stopped a few paces behind him while Dex had been overthinking, his hands shoved into his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“Listen, it’s cool, really.” Dex can’t quite make out the emotions flitting across Nursey’s face. The dull street lamp casts Nursey in dramatic shadows, and if Dex were the romantic type he might think of words like  _ adonis _ or  _ incandescent _ but instead is only fixated on the way Nursey tugs his lip between his teeth.

“You’re super uptight bro, obviously you had a plan and it didn’t work out, and you aren’t known for handling things well.”

Dex sputtered. It was the exact same line he used on his captains, so honestly he couldn’t be upset, except that Dex knew he was feeding them and Bitty a line. They way Nursey says it has Dex flushing in embarrassment all over again, Nursey knows him better than that. 

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” Dex shrugs a shoulder, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “Still, I really am sorry.”

Nursey falls back into step, nudging Dex along with a gentle push and this time when they smile at each other it’s natural, and Dex feels a warmth in his chest. Yeah, they’ll be okay. He can do this. 

He can make this work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: #Keagster


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #Keagster is just as grandiose as #EpiKegster had been, and the Haus is packed with people ready to make poor, end of the year decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't edit this. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ sorry.

Their playoff run ends early this year, and the rest of the semester passes by in a flurry of emotions.  Finals and graduation are looming over the Haus and there always seems to be an air of melancholy between the end of the season and the end of the semester. Clearly Ransom and Lardo had deemed this unacceptable, and conspired quickly and efficiently.

#Keagster is just as grandiose as #EpiKegster had been, and the Haus is packed with people ready to make poor, end of the year decisions. Ransom has been gushing on about Alexei Mashkov to anyone within earshot, Lardo and Holster are dominating the beer pong table, and even Bitty is doing a questionable amount of shots with Chowder and Farmer in the kitchen.

Dex was in no better shape, having downed a cup of tub juice like a man on a mission and keeping a cold beer in his hand steadily through the night. He’s tucked in the corner with the Tadpoles, laughing along as Ford recounts an anecdote from the opening night of Sweeney Todd until he looks over her shoulder.

There, in the middle of a mass of bodies is Nursey, looking radiant and sandwiched between two bodies, the three of them rolling and grinding against each other in a flimsy excuse for dancing. Dex has managed to keep his crush under lock and key, forced himself to keep his feelings buried out of sheer self-preservation, but Derek Nurse is the most beautiful man Dex has ever seen. His skin is warm and his eyes are bright, and despite his lack of coordination on land if you strap him in skates Derek is  _ sturdy _ and Dex appreciates that. 

For a moment Dex feels twelve again, leaning against the wall of the gymnasium at his 8th grade dance watching Cory Thompson try to grind with Sarah Wilkens and discovering, painfully, how he wished he was her. 

He needs to leave right now.

Nursey is leaning back against the broad chest of a man who might be on the basketball team, a petite girl is trying to climb him like a tree, and Dex is sure he’s being creepy. He excuses himself from the Tadpoles as quickly and politely as he can, scurrying off to the kitchen where there should be little to no dancing  _ or _ handsome Nursey’s. He prays that people will chalk his blushing up to the liquor and goes to fetch a fresh beer.

He’s barely closed the refrigerator door before he has an armful of goalie, because Chowder has zero chill and tolerance for alcohol.

“Dex! My best friend! You’re finally in the kitchen!”

“Yeah man, it’s where they keep the beer.” Dex laughs and lets Chowder hang off of him and tug him back to Farmer and Bitty, who are polishing off a bottle of 1800 like champs. Dex is comfortable here, but the image of Nursey sweat-damp and fucking  _ glistening _ is seared into memory. Still, if Dex is good at anything, it’s compartmentalizing; if Nursey is not in the kitchen, then Nursey is not a problem.

It takes all of about five minutes for it to become a problem.

“Nursey! My best friend! You’re also finally in the kitchen!” Chowder pounces the moment Nursey swings through the door and the two are immediately tussling on the kitchen floor. Farmer is whooping and hollering while Bitty makes things worse by trying to separate them, only to be pulled in to their drunken wrestling match. Dex is edging his way towards the nearest escape route but he can’t really make a smooth exit without looking completely sketchy, so he will have to suffer.

Their energy dies out pretty quickly, the pile of them much too drunk and uncoordinated to keep up the fight. Bitty and Chowder scramble to their feet with a hilarious lack of elegance, but Nursey is content to sprawl across the floor, tucking his hands behind his head.

“Hey, this is a disgusting place to sleep, get the fuck up Nursey,” Cait is nudging him with her toe, her face scrunched up distastefully. The usually clean linoleum floor was a spectrum of colors, the sickening green of tub juice predominant in the landscape. Dex could admit it was one hundred percent disgusting.

“I’ve literally slept on a pile of leaves with nothing but a Natty Lite box for warmth. This fuckin’ floor is a luxury suite, bro,” Nursey was kicked back, eyes already slipping shut and his words strung together less than articulately. 

“It’s absolutely disgusting. I’m forced to enact Nursey Patrol,”  Bitty heaves, put-upon and swings around to face Dex, pointing at him unsteadily.

“You’re up, frog!”

Dex rolls his eyes, because Nursey Patrol is a thinly veiled excuse for ‘get your d-partner off the floor.’ Dex had only hoped that drunken shenanigans would distract his friends long enough for him to meld into the background, but it was too wild of a dream.

Dex looks down at Nursey, who is doing nothing more than grinning and wiggling his toes in time with the music thumping loudly from the living room. It takes an alarming amount of willpower for Dex not to crawl onto the floor beside him lick at the line of sweat trailing down his neck.

Dex is so incredibly fucked.

“Bro, you’re going to regret it if you sleep in that,” Dex waves to the puddle of green to Nursey’s right. “Get up.”

“Make me,” Nursey’s flippant remark sends a minute shiver down Dex’s spine, because oh there are so many ways he’d  _ love  _ to answer that, none of which are remotely helpful right now.

Drunk Nursey is just as belligerent as Drunk Bitty, but twice as large. Simply picking him up is not an option, but Chowder pulls through and together the two of them peel Nursey off the kitchen floor. 

“Alright, alright, ‘m tired anyway,” Nursey sways into Dex’s side as Chowder releases him.

“Need help getting back to the dorms?” Chowder’s face is innocent but he’s already sidled up to Farmer and tucking her into his side. He has absolutely no plans to help Dex, the traitor. 

“Nah,” Dex waves them off, then pokes Nursey hard in the side. Nursey jumps, startled, and the group dissolves into giggles. Dex rolls his eyes and wraps his hand around Nursey’s back and curling a palm into his side and just itching to do something stupid like slip it it under the hem of his shirt.

Dex resists and pulls his d-partner out of Haus, the early spring air just on the side of cool hitting their skin as they descend the steps and head back towards the dorms. Honestly, Dex is his fair share of hammered as well and while he had hoped to escape unscathed, Dex was never on the receiving end of luck. It’s a special kind of torture having Nursey’s body pressed up against him, the same one he had been fantasizing about only half an hour ago.

“You’ll be perma-stuck on Nursey Patrol next year, bro,” Nursey’s words are slurred and he’s leaning heavily into Dex’s side. His arm is slung around the back of Dex’s neck and he’s got a gentle grip on Dex’s collar. Nursey was a clingy drunk. 

“Nursey Patrol will be considerably easier next year. I’ll only have to drag you up one flight of stairs instead of three,” Dex replied. He was looking on unhelpfully as Nursey dug around in various pockets, waving around his ID triumphantly before swiping them into the building. 

“Aw, you’re taking me all the way to my room? You’re such a gentleman.”

“My mother taught me manners.”

“Also there’s an elevator, asshole.” Nursey was still draping himself across Dex and uses their drunken momentum to hurl them sideways down the corridor towards the elevators. Dex has clearly had too much to drink, because this is apparently the most hilarious thing that’s happened to him.

They tumble into the elevator in a heap of giggles, and the tension that had been following them around since the dip flip seems to have melt away. Dex prays it’s not just the alcohol that has Nursey so loose limbed around him. The elevator chimes brightly and Nursey’s dorm is only a few doors away, and they’re falling through it with the same lack of coordination they did down the hallway. Dex may have his sealegs, but Nursey matches him and height and build and it’s a struggle to keep them both from falling face first into the ugly dorm carpeting. 

By sheer force of will Dex is able to dump Nursey into his bed and plops down at the foot. Nursey is wiggling himself beneath his comforter, heedless of his snapback and sweater and jeans. Because Dex is a good friend he reaches over and wraps a wrist around Nursey’s ankle, pulling his foot into his lap and unlacing his shoe.

“Thanks.”

Dex almost isn’t sure he heard him, Nursey’s voice soft and muffled where his face is shoved into his pillow. His wrist is still wrapped around Nursey’s ankle gently, and his treacherous thumb is rubbing lazy circles into his skin. 

“What for?” Because really, what has Dex done besides avoid him and patronize him for his choice of sleep space.

Dex’s only answer is a soft snore, Nursey having dropped off almost instantly. He spares a moment to stare longing, because he is and idiot and has no self control. Nursey is not an elegant sleeper, his face mashed into his pillow and already a little spot of drool is forming and still Dex’s pulse is racing.

He’s so, so fucked.

He gently peels his hand from Nursey’s ankle and slips out of his bed. He should not be indulging his crush on Derek Nurse, he should be doing everything to squash it. He should find the snoring and drooling annoying, but he could lay here and listen to it all night. Dex scrambles for the door and lets himself out of Nursey’s dorm quickly, locking the door behind him and only looking back once.

Dex walks back to his dorm briskly, his skin tingling and a warmth pooling in his stomach. By the time he’s locked his door behind him, he’s half-hard and his face is burning. Tristan, his roommate, had left for Boston for the weekend and Dex couldn’t be more grateful. He sets up his camera, pulls up the sheets and tacks them against the walls in a makeshift backdrop, turns on the side table lamp and strips quickly. 

It’s been a long time since he’s thought about doing this for fun, since he’s had that itch under his skin, and honestly it’s that thought more than anything else that has Dex’s head spinning. He digs under his bed and finds his lube and his favorite purple dildo, his signature he might even say, and hops onto his mattress. He clicks the record button then pauses. In a rare moment of bravery, he hits “live” and then settles back and sprawls out. 

He drizzles lube over his fingers and wiggles them playfully at the camera. He can hear the soft ‘pings’ of the chat, but Dex ignores them. He doesn’t want to feel alone right now, but he will never be able to interact with the people in his chat. 

He shoves that train of thought to the back of his mind, easy to do in his inebriated state. He lifts his knees and spreads his legs, giving the camera a full view as Dex traces a finger around his hole. He slips his finger up to the knuckle and grips the base of his dick with his other hand, giving it a few quick pumps. 

Images of Nursey flit through his mind, and suddenly the kegster is coming back to Dex in full force. The thought of Nursey pressed between two strangers sends another wave of arousal through him and his dick twitches in his hand. He fucks himself slowly with one finger, rolling his body the way Nursey rolled against his dance partners. Dex wanted nothing more than to be the one pressed into Nursey’s back, pulling him into his lap, grinding against him as the bass thrums through their bodies.

Dex hastily adds a second finger and moans, scissoring and stretching himself exaggeratedly for show. He’s a panting mess in minutes, his cock leaking as he squeezes himself firmly at the base, already so close to climax and he’s feeling impatient. He slides his fingers out of himself, gives the camera another teasing wave, before he’s slicking up his dildo with lube and spreading himself wide once again. Dex takes his dildo, ridged and velvety, and presses the tip into himself with a gentle steady pressure. It slips past the tight ring of muscles and lets out a soft gasp. 

He wonders wildly what Nursey’s cock would feel like.

The thought sends a jolt through his cock and Dex’s on edge again, just like that. He should feel guilty thinking about his teammate and future roommate like this, but Dex wants so desperately to have Nursey’s body pressed against him, wants to know what it’s like to be fucked by him. 

He’s working his dildo in and out of himself in long, firm strokes and he’s at just enough of an angle to brush his prostate every few thrusts. He’s teetering along the edge of orgasm, rocking his hips up into his fist and down onto his dildo and his rhythm is starting to stutter. He squeezes his eyes shut and all Dex can see is mossy green eyes and then he’s coming with a strangled shout.

He lays there for a moment, dazed, with an embarrassing amount of cum over his fist and stomach as he slides his dildo out of him and tosses it on the bed (which he will absolutely regret doing later). The soft pinging of the chat brings him back from the edge of sleep and he tries to make a show of pulling himself upright with his abs and leans over to shut off the recording. Dex manages just enough energy to take down the bed sheet and shut off his lamp before tugging his laptop into bed with him. He’s uploading it almost on autopilot and fifteen minutes later he’s watching the view count continue to climb.

The video ends up with the most hits Dex has ever had, and his wallet is as heavy as his guilt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading and leaving all the lovely comments! i, too, am excited to see where this is heading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes home for the summer and meets up with an old flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so it took a while but finally I ripped this chapter out of me kicking and screaming. This chapter also definitely heads in a.... different? direction? than I originally intended and was also only partly beta read and edited. So thanks as always to the super amazing @lost-halo-rights @chocolatechipcookiesplease and @dereknursie for helping me out. 
> 
> So the sex in the scene is consensual but it's also not super feel good either and there are allusions to a panic attack, all of which happen towards the end of the chapter if you feel compelled to skip it. 
> 
> And as always thank you for the all the absolutely wonderful feedback!

“Alright, that’s the last of it for now,” Dex wipes his brow, the June air thick with humidity and making his skin tacky. The Haus was buzzing with excitement and the whole SMH were packing up and heading out for a long overdue vacation, the seniors setting off on the newest leg of their lives with whoops and hollers. Dex and Nursey, in a show of solidarity, elected to move in as much from their dorms into their new room as they could before their summer officially began.

Nursey hauls up the last of his boxes and drops them heavily in a corner.

“To be dealt with later. Like in eight weeks or so,” Nursey brushes his hands off on his tank and surveys their room. They’d already talked about the bed arrangement and with some basic carpentry and prayer Dex could probably squeeze his twin bed beneath the loft Lardo is leaving behind and turn it into a makeshift bunk bed.

“I’ll even come back early to help, because I’m so nice,” Nursey flutters his lashes and Dex is entirely charmed, but goes for the easy chirp anyway.

“No thanks, I imagine you do more harm with a hammer than good.”

“Chill, I’m a regular Handy Manny,” Nursey slings his arm around Dex’s shoulder and turns him towards the door. “But we can fight about that in August. Right now, I’ve got a plane to catch.”

They stampede their way down the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the empty house. Chris was gone the day after graduation, taking off with Caitlyn to California with a teary goodbye and promises to Skype. Bits was in Providence in a blink of an eye, and Ollie and Wicks were on a roadtrip with Ransom and Holster.

Nursey plops down on the green couch and is pulling up Uber on his phone and Dex is feeling a little brave. He hops over the back of the couch, landing close enough to Nursey to bounce him and suppresses a laugh while he fumbles his phone, losing his grip.

“Off to the Big Apple?” Dex grins, utterly pleased with himself.

“No one calls it that, dummy,” Nursey laughs and shoves an elbow into his side, turning back to tap at his phone. “My moms are in France right now, so I’m heading there first and then we’ll be back home for the rest of the summer in late June.”

“So what, you’re flying straight to France from here?”

“Uh, basically, yeah. I’m leaving most of my things here anyway. Travelling light,” Nursey nods towards his small pile of luggage, which Dex would not at all call “light.”

“What about you, Poindexter? I didn’t think you’d be hanging around here this long,” Nursey says, turning his full attention on Dex and it has the unfortunate side effect of making Dex blush. Oh how he hates how easily Nursey can knock the breath out of him.

“I’m flying back in a few hours, took the latest flight I can get. The later I get back to Maine, the later I get back on lobster boats.” Dex stretches his legs out in front of them, crosses them at the ankle and hopes he looks nonchalant.

“They put you to work quick, huh?”

“Yeah, but what can you do,” Dex says, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to brush it off. There’s a silence between them, not uncomfortable but certainly not leaving much room to talk. They’re pressed together at the shoulders and Dex is so very aware of the space where his t-shirt ends, Nursey’s summer warmed skin pressed against his. They’re not looking at each other, both of them fidgeting minutely until a chime from Nursey’s phone breaks the spell.

“Well, my ride's here,” Nursey stands and hovers awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. Dex stands and extends his hand, but then Nursey’s pulling him in for a hug and his arm wraps around Nursey’s back, their hands clasped between their chests, and Dex really doesn’t want to let go.

It lasts for a beat longer than is really acceptable, but then Nursey’s pulling away and hopping off towards his luggage, loading himself up and heading towards the door.

“You can always skype me if you miss me, Poindexter,” Nursey laughs and tosses a wink over his shoulder before the door clicks shut behind him.

Dex thinks he’s going to miss Nursey a hell of a lot this summer.

* * *

 

Life in Maine is exactly as Will remembers it. Somedays it feels like his quiet little town is untouched by time; Mrs. Marzilli is still watering her garden with a baby on her hip, Artie and Mary Paquette and their entire brood eternally working at the only diner-slash-pizza-place in town, and the Poindexters keeping the town running with their little repair shop.

Will hates it.

Before Samwell, Will’s whole life has been quiet, despite his family living and working in cramped kitchens, in crowded storefronts, and on even tinier boats. The Poindexters were a stoic bunch, and had long perfected communication through grunts and nods only. It lead to a quiet and lonely life, and Will totally gets why he’s emotionally stunted these days. Not that it makes it any easier to work through. Still, his little town of Gorham felt stagnant and Will wanted nothing else but to get away. He worked himself tirelessly to make that a possibility.

Samwell by contrast is noisy, especially in the dorms or within fifty yards of Adam Birkholtz, but it isn't until he’s laying in his bed with only the faint accompaniment of crickets to really make Will miss it. The quiet is suffocating and it’s almost too easy in the dark of night to forget the rest of the world exists.

When Will sighs, the house groans with him. Will grabs his phone. It’s only nine o’clock, and his house is already full of soundly asleep family, their alarms set to ungodly hours. Still, Will can’t sleep and needs some kind of distraction. He thumbs open his phone and opens his messages.

**-The Frogzz-**

_Me: I can’t sleep._

_C: !_

_N: maybe because only geriatrics go to bed before 10_

_D: Yeah, well 3am comes early._

_C: Does that mean 8am classes are like sleeping in for you?_

_N: plz don’t take 8am classes this semester. i need my beauty sleep._

_C: But we have 6:30 practice!_

_N: just let a man dream, C_

_Me: You slept through the Great Cupcake Fiasco of ‘15, it’s unlikely my alarms will be your undoing._

_C: Oh my god!! I thought Bitty was actually going to murder Holster!!! I was kinda scared._

_N: bro, we’re lineys, our circadian rhythms need to be totally N*SYNC._

_Me: Yeah ok, time for bed._

_N: don’t abandon us like this Dexy._

_C: He needs his beauty sleep._

_N: point_

_Me: Rude._

 

Will turns his phone to Do Not Disturb and rolls over, the idle chatter easing him just enough to slip into sleep with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

* * *

 

The next morning sucks. Will’s alarm drills him awake at 3am sharp and he drags himself through his morning routine, scrolling through his various group messages as he goes. Most were sent well after he had gone to bed, the newest being only half an hour ago. It’s a picture from Ransom, apparently of Holster passed out on the floor of their new apartment, surrounded by boxes.

Will should be happy for his friends, and he is really, but he can’t stop the little pang of jealousy regardless. He’s never had the luxury of relaxing, partying, really having fun and letting loose. Even Haus parties are too hard to have fun at. The constant race to keep his scholarship, the efforts to stay in the closet, and the pressure of his tuition over him like a dark cloud.

Will’s day does not get any better and work is especially grueling. The sea is angry today and the gray of early morning never did shake off. His uncle Sean steers them back to shore early that day, unwilling to put up a battle with the oncoming storm, so instead he makes his way to his uncle Brian’s repair shop. Will sweats over Mr. Cobbett’s lawn mower in the tiny workshop, the window barely cracked and offering no refuge from the humid air.Will’s headache grows and by the time 5 o’clock hits he’s ready to sleep until August.

It’s a grind, but it’s his life. When he hops out of his uncle's truck with a wave, he’s surprised to see his parents packing up their station wagon and is immediately on the defensive.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh Billy,” his mother says in a tone that sounds like she forgot Will even lives here at all.

“Everything’s fine, son,” his father says, emerging from the house with a suitcase. The heavy gray clouds that have been threatening rain all day decide to break, droplets of rain catching on his mother’s sweater.

“Your Aunt Meghan had her baby, and she could use a couple extra hands for a few days. We’ll be gone for the weekend.”

He dips reflexively to let his mother kiss his cheek and then his parents are climbing in the car, leaving Will in the driveway blinking in the drizzle. His fists curl and he can’t keep the scowl off his face as he watches his parents round the corner. He’s barely seen them all summer between work, summer training, and trying to stockpile videos for his return to Samwell and he’s fighting with himself. This is a great chance to spice things up, add variety to his collection, but that’s not his first instinct.

Truthfully, Will is lonely. The front door slams behind him and echoes through the empty house. He’s used to white noise, people moving about the kitchen or a TV in the background but even the light pattering of rain leaves him unsettled. He digs his phone out of his pocket and stares at his messages, but it’s been quiet all day, his friends busy enjoying their summer vacations. He misses Chowder and Bitty and he really misses Nursey.

_“You can always Skype me if you miss me, Poindexter.”_

Will ambles upstairs and pulls out his laptop, opening up Skype before he realizes what he’s doing. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Nursey isn’t on. He minimizes it quickly just to keep it on in the background and hoping maybe someone, anyone, from Samwell will pop on to distract him. It only takes a few minutes for he hears the soft ping of a new message.

_Cory T.: hey red_

_Cory T.: heard you were back in town_

_Cory T.: we should hang out_

Will blinks at the message for a minute. It’s not who he expected, but at this point any person who isn’t a Poindexter would be relief to talk to.

_Me: Yeah, just back for the summer._

Will bites his lip. There’s an itch under his skin that’s been there since June, when Nursey breezed out his life for the summer and left Will with nothing but heaps of sexual frustration. He had been hoping that working himself to the bone would be enough of a distraction, but every night as he flipped on his camera there were lingering thoughts of Nursey’s soft green eyes, his smile and confidence on the ice, his calloused hands so tender with his favorite books. It was driving Will absolutely mad, and he needed anything to chase these treacherous thoughts away.

_Me: We should catch up._

_Me: Want to come over?_

The moment Will hits enter there’s a fluttering in his stomach and his heartbeat skips. It’s not Nursey, but Cory can give Will exactly what he needs.

_Cory T.: i’ll be there in 20_

Will snaps his laptop shut and hops into the shower, washing off the grime of the day and sparing only a minute to let his hands linger across his half hard cock. His doorbell is buzzing as he’s slipping on his flannel and Will deliberately slows his pace on the stairs in an attempt to not look over eager. The bell rings a third time before Will finally yanks it open and there’s Cory Thompson, the only notch in Will’s proverbial belt. He looks the same as he always has, right down to the letterman jacket and the frosted tips with his mouth slanted somewhere between a grin and a leer. Will feels like a high schooler again, eager to find relief but not sure where to start. He never seems to have the upper hand when it comes to Cory.

“My dear William, aren’t you going to invite me in?” Cory shoulders his way past Will and into the house. He spares a glance around the tiny ground floor before making his way up the stairs leaving Will scrambling behind him. Cory saunters up to Will’s bedroom like he knows exactly how this is going to end.

Though, honestly, Will can’t remember the last time they hung out and it _didn’t_ end in sex.

He’s not going to think too hard about that right now, though.

“You’re looking good,” Cory says, spinning on his heel as he takes in Will’s unchanged bedroom. It’s cramped, one extra long twin sized bed along one wall and a desk on another with barely enough floor in between to fit two large men.

“Thanks,” Will is pink in the ears already, and can feel the way the blush heats up his face. He has always been transparent when it came to Cory.

Cory closes the distance between them, a few short steps and he’s hooking his fingers through the loops on Will’s belt, pulling their hips together. The proximity makes his stomach swoop.

Will can feel the tightness in his jeans already, can feel Cory’s own growing erection. It’s just been so long since he’s been with anyone, even with Cory, and he’s been craving something more than silicone. Plus, he really needs to get this Nursey thing out of his system. Cory, with all his attitude and slight and brash, might just be what he needs.

Cory is sliding a warm hand into his back pocket lewdly, grinding their hips together and squeezing at Will’s ass. Will feels his face flush like he’s a high school freshman all over again. He knows this song and dance, knows what Cory likes and how to get himself what he needs.

When Cory tugs on Will’s neck he lets himself be pulled down into a sloppy kiss.

“I’ve missed you, Red,” Cory’s voice is gravelly and deep, his stubble scraping at the hollow of Will’s neck and his knees are weak. Will missed this, too. Missed being held, being kissed, being the sole focus of someone’s attention.

Will shivers as Cory ghosts his lips across his neck. Cory plays him like a petulant prodigy might play a violin, with graceful demand and exaggerated eye rolls, but then he’s pressing Will against the wall and he’s gone.

“Show me how much you missed me,” Cory shoves at Will’s shoulders until he folds in on himself, settling on his knees as Cory briskly jostles his pants and boxers down to his knees. Will doesn’t hesitate. He wraps a hand around Cory’s half hard cock and gives it a few quick pumps before flicking his tongue across the slit. The reaction is almost instant, Cory’s hands in his hair, tugging him forward and pressing his cock into Will’s mouth.

Cory pulls sharply enough that Will’s scalp stings, something that always manages to make Will harder and so what if it’s not the soft or tender kind of romance Will had always seen in the movies? This is real. Will needs real right now.

His knees are starting to ache, his jaw is sore, and Will’s doing little except melting into compliance beneath Cory’s touch.

“Oh- fuck, Red,” Cory yanks him off and up,  pulling his head back, to cover Will’s mouth in a sloppy kiss.

“Fuck, you always did look so good on your knees,” Cory says, pulling back to run a thumb across Will’s bottom lip. It’s uncomfortably slick with spit and Will doesn’t care. He’s feeling needy and reckless, and Cory is pulling him up, or at least trying too, but Will goes anyway on shaky knees. Cory isn’t delicate with him, never was, and tonight is no exception. He shoves Will onto his bed and climbs over him, shucking his pants the rest of the way off. Will fumbles with his belt and jeans, easing the zipper down slowly over his aching cock.

“Look at that, still so easy for me after all this time,” Cory grins, all sharp teeth and working a fist over himself as he keeps his eyes on Will. It’s a show, and Will is the performer. Somewhere, Cory emerges with a bottle of lube and a condom, tossing the bottle near Will’s hip.

“Open up for me.”

God, Will’s life is just some terrible low budget porno. Still, he’s achingly hard and his skin is flushing hot under Cory’s gaze. He lifts his knees and parts his legs, stroking a finger down his perineum and circling his hole. He takes some small satisfaction in the way Cory’s breath hitches and watching him speed up his strokes.

Will may not have been with a lot of guys, but he wouldn’t be able to afford school if wasn’t good at what he does. Will can put on a show, and he’s arching his back, wiggling his hip and taking advantage of his blessedly empty house with deep, breathy moans.

“You’ve always been such a tease. I wanna fuck you already.”

Will huffs but adds another finger. He likes to get lost in the sensation and take his time wh he gets to do this for himself, but Cory is ripping open the foil packet and looking impatient. He rolls the condom on and Will hastily adds a third finger. It’s too soon but he’s generous with the lube and the stretch has Will on the edge of that pleasure-pain threshold.

“Turn over,” Cory’s voice is closer than Will realized. He pulls his fingers out of himself and because they’re both assholes, decides to wipe them off on the hem of Cory’s shirt before flipping himself onto his hands and knees.

“Always gotta be a dick, huh?” Cory’s voice is a husky sneer and his grip on Will’s hip is just this side of Crushing. He’s lining up the blunt head of his cock at Will’s hole and pushing forward without warning. Will sucks in a breath, the stretch almost painful but  he can feel the cool drizzle of lube that Cory pours liberally as he pushes in, slow and steady until his hips are flushed to Will’s ass.

“Fuck, Red, so tight,” Cory sounds as wrecked as Will feels and he takes a bit of pride in the way he makes Cory come apart, just a little. Cory is always collected, cool and charming and strong willed. Always in control, and seeing him tremble and shakes and hold himself back, Will feels almost powerful.

Cory shuffles on his knees, using his grip on Will’s hip to pull and shove until Will’s chest is flat against the mattress and his hips are canted up and then he’s setting a hard and fast rhythm.

He snaps his hips forward and Will’s gets the breath knocked out of him. Cory’s thrusts are long and deep and hard, and Will is going to have bruises where Cory is digging his fingers into his waist. Will slams his eyes shut and rubs his face into the soft fabric of his comforter, soft and warm where he’s gripping them tightly in his ball up fist.

The only contact between them is Cory’s grip and the steady undulating of hips. It makes Will’s skin crawl, he wants-

“More, more,” Will’s fingers flex and he arches his back, pressing himself down into the bedding and writhing against it.

“Fuck, Red, look at you. You’re so desperate for it, always have been,” Cory’s distantly above him and Will is running hot, caught somewhere between arousal and shame, but his cock is leaking where it brushes against his bedding and the hard rhythmic punishing pace has Cory’s cock brushing against his prostate and Will isn’t sure he’ll be able to last much longer.

He’s skirting the edge of orgasm, caught between the scratch of the fabric and Cory’s cock. He wants to come so badly, but there’s still that ache in his chest that won’t go away. He shoves his face into the bed and suddenly he sees mossy green eyes, feels the ghost of a large, warm palm on his back, a bright chuckle. He sees Nursey and the thought is too much, Will coming with a shout into his bedsheets.

“You’re my good little slut,” Cory grits through his teeth, burying his cock as deep as he can and Will knows he’s cumming. Cory shudders above him, squeezing him tight, before coming back down. The change is instant, the cool facade of smug indifference sliding into place as he pushes Will off him and stands, letting Will’s sore, loose body sag into his mattress now covered in cum. It was disgusting, and not for the first time Will wonders why he puts up with this at all.

“It’s been fun. Seems Samwell’s got you all loosened up after all,” Cory ties off the condom and drops it in the trash, swatting at Will’s ass where he’s still sprawled out among his sheets.

“You’ve gotten pretty good, I’ll admit that thought. I’d probably even pay you for it next time,: he’s laughing, digging for his fucking JCrew polo because how could Will forget every time what an asshole he is.

“Fuck you Cory, I’m not a whore,” Will’s insult falls flat, muffled where his face is shoved in his pillow. He was red, still blushing furiously, and he knows it’s not afterglow. His face burns with shame at Cory’s answering laugh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I black out and forget that time you let people pay to watch you jerk off?”

“Still not fucking for money, asshole,” Will snarls. The panic is rising in his chest and he can’t seem to catch his breath, but Cory is still just laughing and pulling on his clothes.

“Oh, well let me rectify the situation,” He hadn’t notice Cory finish getting dressed, standing over him with a dark look, digging around in his bock and unearthing a dollar bill.

“There,” he throws the dollar at Will, “Now you really are a whore.”

Cory’s eyes are dark and flat. He shoves his wallet into his back pocket and stalks out of Will’s room. Distantly Will hears the the front door slam shut, but he’s staring at the dollar, crumpled limply on his floor and blurring into a ball of green and white as the tears gather in his eyes. He was shaking, furious and brimming with shame, Cory’s voice stuck screaming in his skull.

Will is left, naked and shaking and covered in jizz while he tries to remember a breathing exercise. He loses track of time as the sun starts to dip behind the tree line he gulps shaking breaths. The last of the orange is bleeding from the sky by the time Will is able to pull himself off his bed, carefully testing his muscles, stretching his legs out slowly and wincing slightly as he unclenches his fists his fingers tingling as the blood rushes back through them.

This isn’t anything that he wanted. The whole point was to get this Nursey thing out of his system and instead he pulled a classic Poindexter; he fucked up a perfectly good situation.

He never should have invited Cory over. Why on earth had the thought turning to him for anything was a good idea?

Oh, yeah, because he’s the only person within four hundred miles that knows Will is gay. Scratch that, Cory is the only person in the world who knew. The thought has his stomach churning. Why hadn’t he told the team yet? Really, there is no reason to have kept this to himself for so long.

Will pushes the thought away and hauls himself into the shower on heavy feet. He did not want to go down that path right now, all he wanted to do was rinse off the grime and curl up into his bed and try to forget today’s horrible lapse in judgement. The water is cold and stings his skin, but he just tips his head back and gulps down as much water as he can before it turns to lukewarm. Will showers slowly, letting the water heat up until the steam is rolling up in little clouds off his angry red skin and letting the warmth pull him down. It takes a Herculean amount of effort to shut off the tap and flop onto his bed in nothing but his towel and a lingering sense of guilt.

His phone buzzes on the bedside table and he elects to ignore it. Probably Cory trying to get in one last jab, but the buzzing continues. Will rolls over to shut it off, but pauses when he sees what’s on his lock screen.

It’s a picture of Nursey in hideous yellow rubber overalls and matching gloves, holding up a large blue lobster and beaming at the camera.

_“I thought lobsters were red?”_ it’s captioned.

His phone continues to buzz and Chowder’s excitement is palpable from California.

_C: OMG! You’re in Maine?_

_N: nah, just in la ceiba. i heard my new roomie is into lobsters_

_Me: They’re only red if they’ve been cooked._

_Me: Also, I’m not that into lobsters._

_N: the media lies to us once again!_

_N: this is why I need lobster lessons_

_Me: Does that mean I have to take a poetry workshop?_

_N:  couldn’t hurt_

There’s a tug in Will’s chest, different from the frantic anxious clawing when he was with Cory. This is lighter, warmer, more comforting. Nursey looks ridiculous but his smile is bright and playful, and not for the first time Will wishes he was back at Samwell already.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will adjusts to being Dex again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No this wasn't edited and yes I abuse page break, fight me. (ง'̀-'́)ง

Will carries a weight with him through the rest of the summer. He keeps his head down, going through the motions of working until his bones ache, and only pining over Nursey in the few brief moments of silence at night when he’s curling into bed, exhausted.

He doesn’t see Cory again despite the messages that find their way onto his phone in the middle of the night. Some of them are sweet, tempting and almost apologetic. Others are simply dick pics, not even a courtesy text. Still, Will can’t find it in him to block his number and he hates himself a little more every time.

August comes exactly when Will expects, crossing out the days of his calendar with a tentative eagerness. He’s excited to get back to Samwell, to see his friends, but this summer has just made Will tired. The only thing besides a hollow emptiness is the tendrils of joy he gets when the group chat starts up.

Will’s room is boxed up, his fall semester schedule printed out and stuck into one of his binders, his luggage packed, and all his expenses accounted for. Every cent he earned over the summer has been budgeted accordingly, planned for the school years worth of rent, half a meal plan paid for, and even managed to spare a few extra bucks for some new skates. It was an impulse purchase, as much as one Will can make anyway. He really did need new skates after a handful of years of near daily use, but he could’ve gone with a cheaper model, but these fit just right, were nice and shiney, and Will just wanted to treat himself, god damnit. It took a week for his buyer’s remorse to finally fuck off.

So his personal and emotional life is a total disaster, but at least Will can budget and now he’s got shiney new skates. He can’t control his stupid wayward yearning of Derek Nurse, soft eyed and grinning, and he can’t control his idiot libido’s decision to sleep with arrogant assholes, but he can control his finances and Will feels good. He’s ready to take on this next semester.

It’s Friday morning and Will is up early, ready to load his father’s truck for his trip back to Samwell. Normally he’d just get a ride to the train station and handshake goodbye, but he’s bringing his own bed from home to convert into a bunk bed at the Haus, and well, Will really needed the extra help this year. Plus, would it hurt the guy to drive his son to school just once? Though he’s not entirely thrilled with the three hour silent drive ahead of him.

Not to Will’s surprise, his parents are already awake. To his absolute surprise, there’s a plate of bacon and eggs at his seat at the table, his parents already half done with their own breakfast and looking like the kind of parents that do this type of thing on the regular, instead of running strictly on black coffee.

“Good morning, Will,” his mom says sweetly. Will’s mother was not the type of woman who was soft around the edges. She always held her back straight and when he and his brother would shout too loud and the rough housing got too heated, she was the one who pulled them out of the pile. Maria Poindexter was as sturdy and standoffish as her husband, and to see her smiling softly over her glass of orange juice was a sight that Will had a hard time cataloguing. Instead, his plops himself into his seat and, like a good son and a growing hockey player, shovels the free home cooked food into his mouth with reckless abandon.

“I’ll get started packing the truck as soon as I’m done here,” Will offers up to his father, who has been sitting, reading the paper and, sipping his coffee in silence. Even in silence, Brian Poindexter always commanded the room. He was broad shouldered and calloused, and when he did speak it short and abrasive. Poindexters were not gifted with words, they spoke in actions, and even then they were stilted and awkward. Will takes a moment to revel in his emotional growth since starting Samwell. Not that it particularly helps him right now.

His father digs in his pocket and unearths a set of keys, tossing them on the table in front of Will’s plate. It’s a single key on a silver carabiner, and not the usual ring of worn down keys that go to his dad's truck.

“What’s this?” Will picks up and inspects the key. It’s not the same model as his dad’s, and he feels like he knows the answer, but it seems like such a stretch.

His parents exchange a look and then his dad clears his throat.

“You’ve been working so hard, with your hockey scholarship and your summer jobs,” his dad says, and it’s the most words Will has heard him say at once probably ever.

“We were worried that Samwell was going to be hard on us, financially,” his mother interjects. She always had a knack for getting right to the point, no beating around the bush. “But it’s not, and it’s because you’ve worked so hard, and we wanted to show you that we appreciate what you’ve done.”

“It’s nothing fancy, but you deserve it.”

Will blinks in silence and his parents take it as surprised gratitude, exchanging pleased smiles amongst themselves. He was thankful, absolutely, this was a huge motion for his parents, Will totally understands that. It’s not at all expected, and this is way too sentimental for them but it was great, it was so nice of them. Totally fine and not at all an unexpected financial surprise. It would be a great time for Will’s brain to reboot any time now and his lungs to get it the fuck together, because he needs to say _something_.

“Wow. Mom, dad, thank you so much,” Will manages after a moment, his manners taking over. His mother immediately hops up from her seat, giving his a kiss to his forehead before busying herself with the dishes, and his dad is pushing himself away from the table.

“Well son, let’s get you loaded up and on your way, yeah bud?”

It takes less than an hour for Will and his dad to pack the bed of Will’s new truck, which is actually a ‘98 Ford Ranger, but it’s new to him and that’s what counts. It’s packed full, his bed and dresser and luggage all tied down with bungies and Will realizes that it’s nearly his entire bedroom in the back of this truck. He’s not living in a dorm anymore and the Haus feels so much less temporary than student housing did. It feels significant, but like a good Poindexter he’s shoves that feeling down. He gives his mom a quick hug, a handshake for his dad, and then he’s putting Maine in his rearview mirror.

He drives and he thinks, catches up on the group chat when he brakes for gas. It’s a clunker and hog and Dex knows where all his extra money will be going and does his best not to send himself into a panic attack in an AM/PM parking lot.

He pulls up to Samwell midday and goes to put his shiny new Haus key (actually not shiny or new at all) but the doorknob turns before he gets there and Nursey is beaming at him from across the threshold.

“Surprise!”

Dex is quite surprised, yes. Derek is standing there, the ease of summer set into his shoulders, his skin even darker from frolicking on South American beaches and his eyes sparkling like he’s won some sort of prize, exuberant and fucking gorgeous. He’s more beautiful than Dex remembers and he stands there, caught blinking on the porch of the Haus for a minute before he manages to make words happen.

“What are you doing here, Nurse? Weren’t you just in Brazil?”

“Honduras, but I said I would be here to help with the beds, so I’m here,” Nursey says, motioning to the bed in the back of Will’s pick up. “Also, nice new wheels, bro.”

Two years ago, Dex would’ve found these comments flippant and ignorant and would’ve picked a fight by this point, but he’s grown up. He’s realized his own financial insecurities aren’t Nursey’s problem and he’s had a shit show of a summer and honestly he’s just, well.

He really missed Nursey.

“Thanks, it was a gift from my parents actually. Like a late graduation gift,” Dex says.

“Or early, depending on how you view it.” Nursey’s shouldering past him and marching over to the bed of the truck, leaving Dex to scramble after him.

They affectionately bicker while Nursey helps Dex unload the truck, and Dex is thankful that he has someone here to help haul his mattress up to their room. He had fully intended to struggle up the stairs alone, but having Nursey shoulder half the burden wasn’t necessarily bad, and he only complained about it for about five minutes, which Dex chalks up to a win.

“So how was Honduras?” Dex asks, after all his stuff is mostly in place, the two of them sitting on the floor taking a break.

“Pretty dope. My mama had a thing,” Nursey says dismissively. He had tried to explain what his parents did for work once, and Dex just… hadn’t really understood. Something with corporation acquisition financial… something. Nursey had stopped trying to explain it after the third time. “But she surprised my mom and I with tickets, and she stayed an extra few days. The lobster there is lit,” he leans over, bumping their shoulders yet again, and he can feel the heat of Nursey’s bare bicep against his and it makes Dex’s heart stutter and in this rare moment of weakness he can feel it happening, but is helpless to stop himself. It bubbles up out of nowhere.

He giggles.

It’s small but genuine,  and he can already feel the embarrassment burning across his face. Derek must decide to take mercy on him, because he just smiles back. They’re having a moment, Dex thinks, a true moment of companionship and he knows he had better play this right. He cannot afford to screw this up.

“So,” Dex stands up, extending a hand down to Nursey. “Hardware store?”

Nursey takes his hand and pulls himself up, still grinning.

“I call shotgun.”

* * *

 

It’s many hours later and the bed frame is complete. Dex hadn’t bothered with staining it, he likes the color of natural wood just fine, it was more rustic he likes to tell himself, instead of having to shell out the extra money for something simply aesthetic.

It looks good, fitting solidly under the the loft bed frame that Lardo left behind with enough space underneath for storage, though Dex knows it will just end up being a pile of clothes.

Nursey keeps distractedly sucking at the tip of his thumb, and it’s not until Dex has tidied up his tool box that it finally makes him snap.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Chill, I’m fine,” Nurse says, shoving his hands in his pockets and letting out a hiss.

“Yeah okay, sounds false,” Dex grins.

“That’s not how the meme works, William, also it’s just a splinter,” Nursey sticks out his tongue because he’s actually a toddler, but his thumb is back between his teeth a moment later.

“C’mon, let me see,” Dex unearths a pair of tweezers and grabs Nursey’s wrist, tugging him forward and inspecting his hand, ignoring Nursey’s squawk of indignation. Dex doesn’t think, just cradles Nursey’s hand in his and in one efficient pluck, frees the sliver caught in Nursey’s spit-dampened thumb. Dex holds it up triumphantly, and Nursey’s look at him again, bright eyed and beautiful. It takes a moment to register that he’s still gripping Nursey’s hand gently, and neither of them are quite doing anything about the situation.

“Uh, got your back?”

Nursey snorts, rolling his eyes and finally taking his hand back. Yeah, he basically just tried to no-homo his way out of this situation, that seems like a pretty fair reaction.

“Thanks. I get first dibs on shower!”

* * *

 

Dex feels more at ease as the semester begins. Chowder rolls in from California the next day and it's a veritable party. His presence eases away the last of the tensions between him and Nursey. He’s used to Chow acting as a buffer between them, but Dex has never been more grateful for it.

Being around Nursey so much is difficult, to say the least. After their first day things between them were pleasant, the both of them on their best behavior, but having Nursey’s sole attention, his laughs that are almost fond, and his affectionate teasing. It’s damn near painful to have him so close and not have the nerve to do anything about it.

The Haus slowly fills up and by the time their captain arrives, Dex is beginning to feel settled.

Their first on-ice practice eases something deep in Dex’s bones. Hockey is a job for him, he’s so incredibly dependent on the scholarship that by spring semester it feels like a job. But they didn’t make the playoffs last year and he’s had to spend his summer conditioning off ice, running and weight training rather than getting any skating in. He hasn’t been on the ice in five months and when his skates hit the ice of Faber, a wave of calm crests over him. Here, he’s got one goal. He’s an enforcer, and he can take all he explosive anxiety and channel it into something productive.

Nursey was built for speed, an offensive defenseman who leaves Dex in the dust, and he’s only gotten faster since last year, but their chemistry is still there. His drop passes are flawless, like he’s got a gps locked on Dex and they work in tandem, and by the end of practice the poor new frogs are rubbing at their sore sides.

“Save it for the regular season, Dex,” Bitty chirps, but he’s got a little smile in place as he hands out tiger balm and ice packs.

“Yeah, chill Poindexter, when Bits said break in the waffles he didn’t mean literally,” Nursey bumps his shoulder as he plops down next to him in his stall. He’s grinning though, and Dex just beams right back, rolling out his own shoulders.

They hobble their way through showers and redressing, everyones legs turned to jelly. Bitty was proving already an impressive captain, though Dex isn’t sure if it’s thanks to his NHL boyfriend, or if has something to do with these “gulags” he keeps mentioning.

Regardless, the soreness of his muscles feels good, but as he strips off his socks he can’t help but wince. There are spots rubbed an angry red where his new skates pinch at his skin. With no ice-time over the summer he hadn’t had the opportunity to break in his new skates and feet are currently paying the price for it.

Dex is only thankful for his beast of a vehicle in moments like these, choosing to be lazy and also kind to his poor feet. He gives his tire a little kick as he tosses his hockey bag in the back. Grateful, sure, but he still had mixed feelings over this stupid truck.

He’s broken out of his scowling at the sound of two bags thunking down next to his, and then he’s being crushed by Chowder.

“Dex, you know you’ve always been my best friend, right?”

“We live in the same house, Chowder.”

“Sure, but I still love you!” Chowder smiles, ruffles his hair and opens the passenger door. “I call middle seat!”

Nursey slings an arm around Dex’s neck and pulls him in, knocking their heads together gently, Nursey’s curls tickling at Dex’s temples. It’s intimate and familiar and absolutely impossible for Dex not to be affected.

“Thanks for the lift, roomie.”

 

* * *

 

Dex sinks into his bed with a groan, kicking off his shoes and socks, inspecting his feet.

“Yikes, bro, that looks painful,” Nursey eyes him with concern where Dex is peeling off his socks, only a few pink spots giving away his pain.

“Oh, yeah, just haven’t had much of a chance to skate this summer. Always gotta break my feet in again.”

“I got just the thing,” Nursey says, disappearing into their shared bathroom and a moment later Dex hears the water in the tub beginning to run. Nurse peaks his head around the corner and motions him forward. With a Herculean amount of effort Dex manages to push himself off the bed and rounds the corner to the bathroom just in time to see Nursey dumping a bag of epsom salt into the slowly filling tub.

“You ran me a bath? You shouldn’t have.”

“You wish, loser, this is for all of us,” Nursey hops up on the counter, tugging off his socks and pushing up the legs of this pajama pants.  

Dex grins and sits on the edge of the tub, rolling up his own pants. Chowder practically jumps in, splashing around in his natural habitat before Nursey follows suit. Dex slides to the corner, leaning against the cool tile and gently dips his feet into the steaming water. The warmth soothes his aching feet and when Nurse and Chowder finally tire of kicking water at each other they sit too, the three of them far too big to be sharing the tiny lip of the tub, but Dex is squished between the wall and Nursey’s warm body, flush together from shoulder to knee, and it makes Dex’s eyes feel heavy. He’s exhausted, the pain in his feet is ebbing, and he could really use a nap right now.

“Thanks for sharing your gross foot-water, Nurse.”

“Bro, it’s so much more than just gross foot water. It’s a magic elixir for your toesies.”

“No, it’s just unsanitary.”

“And yet here we are,” Nurse laughs, pressing his shoulder into Dex’s.

Nursey and Chowder chatter away happily while Dex let’s his eyes slip shut. The water stays warm for a while and their voices wraps around Dex like a blanket, comfortable and gentle and safe, a feeling Dex hadn’t realized had wedged itself in his chest just beneath the giant ball of anxiety that always lives there. A feeling he hadn’t realized he missed so badly.

The next thing he hears is is Chowder’s trying-to-be-sneaky giggle and the shutter of an iPhone camera.

“What?” Dex says, but it comes out slow and a little tacky, like maybe he shut his eyes for just a second too long.

“Dex you look adorable!” Chow turns his phone towards him, holding it dangerously over the now lukewarm bath water.

It’s a picture of him and Nursey. The angle is a bit odd, but Chowder had used the dog filter and apparently Dex sleeps with his mouth open just enough to have a cartoon dog tongue lolling out of his mouth, and Nursey is leaned in close next to him looking absolutely delighted and flashing a peace sign.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s perfect blackmail material. What would you do for me to not post this to Insta?”

“You’d never tarnish your IG with pictures of white boys.”

“Woah, Bits has been on there plenty.”

“Okay, just gingers then,” Dex manages lightly, dipping his hand into the cloudy water and pulling the plug.

“I think you’re hair was in one, Dex!” Chowder supplies oh so helpfully.

“It was for aesthetics,” says Nursey

“He even asked permission,” Dex supplies, standing up and grabbing for his towel. They dry their feet and decide collectively that they should take advantage of the fact that classes haven’t started yet and a nap was definitely in order before Bitty’s mandatory team lunch.

If this is life in the Haus, Dex thinks as he collapses into bed, he can definitely make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever, and that's it's less sexy and mostly filler? I guess it's just a promise that I'm not done, and I'm still working on this! 
> 
> Next time: Perhaps something dramatic will happen!

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](https://pwney.tumblr.com/).


End file.
